


Share This Dance

by nazyalenskyism



Series: Grishaverse Collection [4]
Category: Nikolai Series - Leigh Bardugo, The Grisha Trilogy - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Angst, Dancing, F/M, Last Dance, Pining, it's a ballroom scene, when nikolai finds the words, zoyalai
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:27:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27039451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nazyalenskyism/pseuds/nazyalenskyism
Summary: A last dance between a general and her king.
Relationships: Nikolai Lantsov/Zoya Nazyalensky
Series: Grishaverse Collection [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1959739
Kudos: 38





	Share This Dance

**Author's Note:**

> I really enjoyed writing this one, and I hope you like reading it <3

“Thanks,” Zoya mumbled, taking a glass from a passing tray hoping that maybe this drink would be enough to help ease the pain. It probably wouldn’t, but that wouldn’t stop her from trying. Across the room, she saw Genya, with David at her side entertaining a group of guests, Tamar and Nadia flirting in a corner, and Tolya stationed a slight distance away from the stage at the front of the room. And then there, in the middle of the dance floor, Nikolai spun his new fiancé around in their first dance as an engaged couple. Zoya refused to let herself turn away. This was a reality. She was the one who had pushed and pushed for this exact result, she didn’t get to feel wary about it now. Her king, her country, her people, this decision was what was best for them all. 

She wondered if she could leave yet. Maybe she could excuse herself, saying she was unwell, falling asleep until this nonsense was over. But she was commander of the Second Army, a member of the King’s Grisha Triumvirate, a high ranking general, and a woman who would be murdered by Genya Safin if she even thought about leaving less than an hour into the festivities. As if sensing her traitorous thoughts, Genya’s eyes found hers, and she could see the warning in them, _‘if you leave…”_ she didn’t want to finish the thought. Giving Genya a small nod, she continued to scan the dance floor, looking for a distraction as the music ended, when he looked right at her. He held her gaze for a moment, and for that second, Zoya thought she saw something flicker in his eyes. Something. Nothing. But sooner than she could think on it, he turned, offering a hand to Genya and pulling her onto the floor for the next dance. Zoya took the opportunity to leave her comfortable corner and stand with David, as she knew Genya would want her to do. She spent the entirety of the next song chatting with the Duke of somewhere and the Duchess of elsewhere, grateful for all the times Nikolai had dragged her along to his meetings with nobles. She had been standing in for the role that Nikolai had now filled, a wife, a queen, who would help with that, and in all other aspects of his life too. The foolish part of her mourned that time now lost as she sat alone in her chambers, finishing her work in a tired silence without the companionship of the last three years to make it bearable. 

The last few notes of the quick tempoed song ended with a flourish as she assumed people clapped at Genya and Nikolai’s enthusiastic performance, the two best dancers in the palace were also the two biggest show offs. Zoya’s conversation partners hurried off as whispers spread of the next song after the break being a classic for the Lantsov’s parties. Surrounded by Ravkan’s in all their finery, she felt the stone tumbling down the well of loss inside her, they all left her. They always left her. She was as alone as she had always been.

***

As Genya scurried off with David in tow. Nikolai took a second to catch his breath, Genya could give him a run for his money with her dancing. Her last words before she pulled away replayed in his mind, _‘I can see the way your eyes follow her.’_ He’d brushed it off in the moment, but the more he thought about it now, the more discomforted he felt. She had been able to see something within him that he would never be able to acknowledge again.

Whispers filled the air about the next song that would be playing. Nikolai had chosen it to be the third dance of the night, it was nearly twice as long as the standard song, and it carried a significance he couldn’t afford to put into words. Her eyes were closed when he approached, as if she was trying to pause time to take a single breath. Under the brightness of the chandeliers and moonlight she looked like a lonesome saint, in her sapphire blue of her elegant gown she shone in a manner that would put the vault of Lantsov jewels to shame. 

“Commander Nazyalensky,” her eyes flew open, and he thought he saw a spark of anger following her initial confusion. Was she mad at him? Or had he imagined it? Perhaps she was simply irritated that he’d interrupted her quiet. “Commander Nazyalensky, would you do me the honour of sharing this dance with me?” Zoya’s eyes darted to his extended hand, the slight inclination of his head. Her fingers shook near imperceptibly as she slipped her hand into his gloved one and he led her to the dance floor. She carefully placed her hand on his shoulder in textbook position, making sure there was a solid distance between them. 

“Speak, Nazyalensky. If you keep scowling at me like that, people may think you don’t like me.”

She rolled her eyes, her posture relaxing slowly as the music began to play. “I don’t like you.” 

“Three years working together and you can’t praise even one of my many good qualities?”

“What’s there to praise?” she scoffed, “ even if there was, I couldn’t risk your ego getting any bigger.”

Nikolai felt himself smile as they swayed across the dance floor, the distance between them slowly getting smaller. Something had changed in the past few weeks. He’d been busy with Ehri and planning for the ball in addition to his usual work, anything to take his mind off of a certain raven-haired storm. Since that night in the fold, he felt like they’d toed a line, but that they hadn’t been able to cross over to either side, so now here they stood, with no choice but to stay faltering in the middle or be torn to either side. She had been perfectly civil in meetings and when they had joint tasks, but he missed having her there in the mornings when he woke up, in the evening when they worked as a team, at night when she locked him away. She’d insisted that none of it was necessary anymore, and she’d been right, they both knew it, but it didn’t ease the heart of the boy who longed for his companion. 

“So,” Nikolai began, shaking out of his reprieve as the music began to pick up.

“So…?”

“Did you know that this song was composed for the very first Lantsov King by Sankt Grigori? It was meant to be the Saints’ gift to the new king.” Zoya nodded, and he paused to spin her, trying to ignore the way his heart lurched when her hand braced on his chest before settling back on his shoulder. “It’s supposed to be a welcome to the new king, a piece reminding him about loss but also a hopeful future.” 

Zoya hesitated, “so you chose it to make a statement? To celebrate your new engagement, and to usher in a brighter future?” She felt that same jolt of pain she’d felt when Nikolai had announced his engagement. She had no right to feel anything at that. He was not hers, he had done nothing to indicate that he had ever wanted to be hers— and even if he had, they both knew that it would never be possible. But as much as she tried to rationalize it, it still stung. She had always wanted to know if someone like Nikolai could love her— and now she realized, as the moonlight lit up his intelligent eyes, she’d also wanted to know if someone like Nikolai would. 

Was it the ridiculous emotions bubbling inside of her, or was he drawing her closer? “Lantsov.”

“Nazyalensky?”

“What are you doing? Don’t think I won’t step on your foot for your impropriety.”

“I have no doubt that you would,” he smiled, but she could sense a hint of wistfulness in his gaze as he drew her in closer yet, still a socially acceptable distance but much closer than she’d been earlier. “I just wanted to enjoy this moment,” he whispered slowly, not meeting her eyes. “I thought you might appreciate the meaning behind the song. When I was revisiting it’s history I thought of you.” 

Her eyebrows furrowed, “you thought of me? Why, because I’m a hopeful future? For what? Ravka, as it’s ‘protector?’” She was truly confused, what was he going on about?

“Each Lantsov king interprets it differently.” Nikolai drew in her for one final spin as the last notes of the song played out, and she felt his lips brush her ear as he guided her past him. “It’s a song of loss, of what could have been, the hope of a future that we may never see, to me.” 

She felt her feet stumble at his words. She tried to meet his eyes as the song ended, demanding an answer but before she knew it he was pulling away, bowing slightly before kissing a chaste kiss to her hand. He turned, marching back to Tolya while she blindly made her way over to Genya’s side, dumbfounded. 

She was itching to go to the library, she needed to read about the song, but she still couldn’t leave, not with Genya glowing with pride at her creation. She suffered through hours more of the ball, entertaining dignitaries while watching Nikolai’s gilded hair rounding the dancefloor from the corner of her eye. When the festivities were finally over and the king had left, she broke away to the library, needing to know what that idiot had been prattling on about. Only when she was back in her chambers did she open the book. There, under the passage about the different interpretations of the song was a sentence underlined in black ink, leading to a note carefully calligraphed in the margins. She recognized the writing, she saw it daily. She recoiled as she read the words, sinking back against the door. The words were what he’d said to her before the Saints had taken them.

_“This is the part where the king of Ravka surrenders himself, and the love we never had lives on in ballads and song.”_

Zoya let out a hiss as she felt anger and pain build behind her eyes, blurring her vision. She had wondered, wanted to know if someone like Nikolai could love her, would love her. But the problem was, someone _like _Nikolai would never be _Nikolai.___


End file.
